


1964 1/2 Mustang

by orphan_account



Series: Abattoir [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the events of Abattoir: 6 Months, Fox Mulder and Dana Scullyfinallyshare their feelings for each other in the most intimate way possible.





	1964 1/2 Mustang

**Author's Note:**

> Written by TBishop as a request from the original author. TBishop27@aol.com.
> 
> * * *

> "Agent Scully, have you ever been kissed in the back seat of a 1964 1/2 Mustang?"
> 
> \- _From Abattoir by Xenith_

My gallant knight arrived on his white horse to rescue me today.

Okay, it was Mulder in a white 1964 1/2 cherried out Mustang, but you get the general idea. It’s six months to the day since Mulder’s first HIV antibody screening and though he never said a word about it, I knew he had been given another clean bill of health the moment he showed up in that car.

He rescued me from six months of worry and frustration, six months of fear that the man that I loved might be infected with a fatal disease. He steadfastly refused to have sex or intimate contact with me, however protected, until he was given the final word from his doctor. I argued with him that I was at just as much risk due to the nature of my work as a pathologist, having only the thin barrier of latex to protect me there as well. But he countered that I took that risk of my own accord and he would not allow himself to be responsible for giving me a deadly disease. There was just no changing his mind. So we did things his way. Why change now?

You’d think after almost seven years of a platonic relationship, six months would have been no hardship for us... think again. Now that we were involved romantically, dating and well... I think it’s traditionally known as courting, the urge to be intimate had become acute.

Mulder’s definition of ‘messing around’ left much to be desired, and I desired so much. After six months of hand holding, tender kisses and lustful looks, I was ready to fuck this man to within an inch of his life...

“Here we are, Scully, lover’s lane.” He announces with a grin as he shuts off the car engine. Mulder’s version of the classic make out place is an empty boat launch parking area overlooking the Potomac.

“Well, that’s refreshingly honest of you, Mulder. At least you didn’t insult my intelligence by claiming to have run out of gas.”

“I don’t see any reason to pretend here, Scully.” As he says that, he reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. The heat of his touch through the thin fabric of my dress effectively sets me off. The aching, the longing, the hunger for more of him is instantly activated by that simple act. His fingers play with the delicate black silk, slipping it up little by little until he accesses bare leg. The look that he’s giving me says everything I need to know, tonight, finally, the waiting is over. A shiver runs through me... and I feel my body respond in wet and wonderful ways to Mulder’s touch.

My heart starts to pound faster as he traces his fingertips back and forth along the inside of my thigh, inching ever so slowly closer to my sex. I’m already breathing faster as I watch with fascination his hands steadily advance. I’m almost squirming by the time he finally reaches his destination, and I gasp at the jolt that hits me when his fingers first brush against my curls.

Mulder gasps too. “Scully, you’re not wearing any underwear.” His eyes smile joyfully at this discovery, shining with approval.

“I didn’t see any reason to pretend either.” I confess, offering him what I hope is a seductive leer.

He bites down on that delightful lower lip of his to stave off the immediate urge that I see threatening in the dark pools of his eyes. I become so lost in those hypnotic depths, unaware of anything but a sea of beautiful Mulder green, that I jump and hiss when he dips a long finger into the dripping heat of my center, coaxing even more lubrication in preparation of our imminent coupling.

“Jesus, Scully, you’re so wet.” He works his finger around my clit in tight little circles.

I grip the sides of the cool leather seat and let my legs fall further apart, opening myself to his touch. The sensation of this contact goes well beyond the sensitive folds of nerve and flesh.

Every part of my body is responding, nipples hard, face flushed, respiration and circulation increased, even my thought process has become muddled... reason and self restraint have been lost. More fingers join the assault on my raging desire, leaving me moaning and helpless to his will.

Mulder breaths in deep. “Mmmm, Scully, can you smell that?” His voice is like distant thunder.

“What?” My reply is breathy and rough. How quickly I am his slave.

“You. You smell delicious.”

_Oh, God! Muldermuldermulder you’re making me crazy._ My hips now rotate with the gentle rhythm of his fondling. After months of forced denial, at long last he rewards me. “Oh, God, yesss.”

And then suddenly he stops, and I whimper as he pulls his hand away, fingers wet with my liquor. I watch him admire the dripping testimony of my arousal, the evidence of his control over me. He notices me watching and slides his tongue across his lips to tease me, then proceeds to lick each of his fingers clean in a most seductive manner, sucking the juice off them, one by one.

“I was right. You’re delicious, Scully.” The storm rumbles again, and while I’m still reeling from his erotic show, he plunges his hand back between my legs returning to his task.

“Oooh... Mmm... More.” Only Mulder could make me croon.

But seconds later he cruelly abandons me yet again, and I nearly scream with frustration... until I see his intention.

“Your turn.” He says bringing his glistening hand up to my mouth.

If he means to totally unhinge me, then the man has reached his goal. I feel the thrill of something decidedly indecent rush through my body as I oblige his request and taste my own juices.

Using just the tip of my tongue to clean the rich salty essence from each of Mulder’s long slender fingers, I make a production of the process, moaning and watching his reactions through heavy-lidded eyes.

Mulder’s eyes roll back with pleasure and his other hand finds the bulge in his jeans, stroking with gentle pressure meant to soothe his aching need. His hips move reflexively at the contact. For him too, the process is beyond his control.

“Let me get that.” I whisper, reaching across the white bucket seats to touch the rock hard erection straining beneath black denim.

I feel the length and girth of his rigid cock twitching for release, begging to be set free of it’s prison. When I reach for the zipper, Mulder’s hand grips mine with such intensity it’s all I can do not to cry out. I search his face for meaning, but his eyes are closed to mine. I begin to panic, fearing he may still be unable to accept such intimacies after the trauma he suffered at the hands of that animal bastard Kurt Willard.

Finally, Mulder looks at me and my fears are reduced to ashes by the fire I see burning in his eyes.

He only manages two words. “Back seat.”

And then we are both opening the doors and stepping out into the cool night air. Mulder slides his seat all the way up, folding it forward, making as much room as possible for his lanky six foot frame. I do the same out of consideration for my tall, dark and handsome, partner/lover/knight in black armor... Okay, it’s a leather jacket, and he just took it off, but what the hell? We both climb into the back seat, closing the doors behind us.

I kick off my heels. No need to tear up this beautiful upholstery.

Immediately Mulder makes his move, reminiscent of a hormone-enraged, high school boy going after his prom date... descending on me with roving hands and probing tongue. However, I’m no virgin prom queen, as Mulder quickly discovers when I persist with my earlier task of wrestling him out of those too tight designer jeans.

“Scu..llee...” He chuckles, amused by my eager and single-minded pursuit. His voice sends a shiver through me and his hot breath feels cool against my ear, where only moments ago his tongue played havoc. With his help, I am able to divest him of both pants and briefs, pushing them down past his knees to bunch around his ankles.

I’ve got him where I want him now.

I waste no time climbing onto his lap, straddling his hips and position myself over that impressive hard-on he has proudly on display. The aching is almost unbearable now.

Our mouths collide in a fiery kiss of teeth, lips, tongues and passion. I am driven to only one objective, impaling myself on the rod of steel and hot flesh that’s teasing my entrance... but Mulder’s hands are at my waist, firmly holding me back from paradise.

I struggle against him. _Please, Mulder... God, please! I need you. I want you. I have to have you inside me again. It’s been too long... too damn long._

His fingers are digging into me, bruising me, in an attempt to hold off our union. I fight him harder, determined to have what I have only been allowed to dream of for months. I need this. _God, Mulder, please don’t deny me any longer. Please, Mulder, please! I can’t stand it anymore._ I pull back from his lips.

“Damn it, Mulder!” The desperation is quite clear in my voice. We’re both breathing hard, and the car’s windows are already opaque.

Freed from the frenzy of our kiss, my mind clears enough that I am, if but only briefly, able to consider something besides my own lust.

The pained expression Mulder wears is like a slap in my face, bringing me back to reality.

Shit! I just yelled at him. How could I be so thoughtless? Maybe this is too much for him too fast. He’s still in therapy for Christsake, Dana.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry... God, Mulder, I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.” I try to calm myself. To cool down a few hundred degrees and give Mulder some time, but it’s so unbelievably hot in this car. Trickles of perspiration run down along my temples and across my fevered cheeks. My dress clings to my sweat-dampened skin.

“It’s okay, Scully.” He says shutting his eyes and trying to compose himself.

“If you’re not ready for this...” It’s killing me, but I have to say it. I have to think about him, he’s come so far in his healing process. I don’t want to set him back.

“No! I’m fine, Scully! God damn it, don’t coddle me! We both want this. I’m fine.” He doesn’t look fine. I know he’s remembering.

“Are you sure?”

His answer is to suddenly shove me down on to himself, penetrating me deep with an upward thrust of his hips. “Yes!” He says through gritted teeth, but my scream of pleasure/pain drowns out his affirmation.

Lust-darkened eyes meet and we begin a wild dance of thrust counter thrust to the music of our impassioned cries. So good... so fucking good to have him inside me again. He fills every bit of me, and I greedily take everything he’s got. This is what I have been waiting all these long months for, and it’s perfect.

The last time Mulder laid claim to me, the situation was horribly different. I had a gun to my head, and my partner and I were being forced to perform for the perverted amusement of our kidnappers. Despite the depravity of the situation, and the overwhelming fear of being killed, Mulder managed to make what could have been a traumatic forced rape, into a tender act of friendship and love.

I was determined not to let those monsters take from us the emotional bond we’d always shared. And thankfully, the trauma we both suffered that day has only served to strengthen that bond.

And now that we can at long last indulge our fantasies and give in to our wanton desires, I release myself from any inhibitions and enjoy.

I ride him hard, and before very long I’m dizzy and afraid I might pass out from the heat I am generating. “Hot... too hot.” I pant, but can’t bring myself to stop sliding up and down his hardness.

Without missing a beat, Mulder pulls my slip-like dress up and over my head. And then his deft fingers quickly find the clasp at the back of my bra and relieve me of that last scrap of clothing. His hands begin kneading my breasts, squeezing my nipples..._ God, yes!_ I am rocking my hips, writhing as I continue faster and harder. The heat is stifling now. I can’t take much more.

Mulder shifts position a little beneath me and...

Oh! “Yes! God, yes! Right there. Don’t stop!”  
He’s hitting a place inside me now that has me on the verge of an orgasm, and I will die if he doesn’t take me all the way there.

“Fuck, it’s hotter than hell in here.” Mulder curses, but he continues his task. When he brings his mouth down to suckle my breast, I go tumbling over the edge in rapturous free fall.

As my body goes limp, Mulder takes full advantage. He lays me down across the back seat and moves on top of me. Wrapping my exhausted legs around his middle, I give him the freedom to penetrate me as deep as he can.

I run my fingers through his soaking wet hair, stroking, soothing and encouraging him, as he pounds into me seeking his own release. The leather seat sticks mercilessly to my bare skin. My body still tingling from the aftermath of one orgasm, is suddenly thrown into another.

“Oh, God, Mulder!” I claw at his back, and this time he joins me in my ecstasy.

“Sculleee... Ahh, Jesus!” His super-heated body collapses on top of me.

Oh, dear God in heaven, I can’t breath! “Mulder!” I try to push his crushing weight off of me. “M..uld..er, I can’t... can’t... breathe!”

“That’s because there’s no more air in here, Scully.” He huffs with effort, as he pushes up and away from me and sits back down on the seat.

I scramble up, and all I can think of is getting out of this kiln. Modesty abandoned, I grab the handle and swing open the door. The blast of cool fresh air is welcome but not nearly enough to bring down the fever raging within me.

Mulder is just getting out of the car, zipping up his pants, when I flash him a grin and break into an all out sprint for the bank of the river. In a splash I disappear beneath the night blackened water, letting the chilly currents wash away heat and sweat and remnants of our amorous encounter.

It is glorious beneath the water and I stay below far longer than I intended. When I realize I need air I am still an agonizing, desperate swim from the surface. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies my panic is enough to feed the muscles that produce a much needed fast ascent. I surface a few yards off shore, gulping lungs full of the sweet evening air.

Treading water, I turn to see Mulder still standing on the bank, running fingers through his sweaty mane. He does not look happy. My poor Mulder, he was probably about ready to call and have them drag the river for me.

I swim back closer to the shore and Mulder slides down the embankment to stand at the water’s edge.

“Coming in?” I invite him, holding out a hand.

There is no hesitation. He strips out of his clothes and plunges into the river beside me. His naked body tangling around mine, holding me protectively.

We kiss, and this time it’s a tender, sweet exchange. The moonlight shimmers off the rippling, glassy blackness all around us. I feel as if we are washing away more than just transudation and the residue of our sexual encounter, we are cleansing ourselves of six months of angst and the painful memories of a hateful warehouse and an bloody Abattoir.


End file.
